Hard Rock
by Lewen
Summary: 1st appearance of Anne Wingard. She started as a Mary Sue and then I shaped and molded. It took 2 years but I think she's not embarassing anymore..


  
  
Hard Rock  
By Stonewar  
  
Standard disclaimers apply. I simply do not have energy to compose  
one at the moment.  
  
Omaha, NE  
Feb 12, 1998  
  
SCULLY POV  
  
I closed my eyes as the escalator descended to the main level of  
Eppley Airport and took a deep breath. Finally the nightmare was  
over. Well, at least that particular nightmare. Knowing my life  
there is always another one around the corner. For now, I simply relished  
not being on that plane anymore. The snow and wind made it a very  
rough landing.  
  
I sensed Mulder moving next to me. Opening my eyes, I saw him  
waving to a woman standing near the baggage claim, who is returning  
his greeting,  
  
"Is that Anne?" I asked. He simply nodded and jogged down the final steps  
to meet her. She smiled wanly up at him and he surrounded her in an  
embrace.  
  
As I approached them I heard him ask, "How are you doing?" It is not a  
greeting or a pleasantry but genuine concern. A feeling he has  
directed at me so often in the past.  
  
"Better. I have lots to do." She answered.  
  
So, this is Anne. The Invisible gunman. Though I've never said it out loud,  
that's how I've always thought of her. For five years, I've heard her mentioned in  
passing but have never seen her.  
  
Of course, I have never actively made inquiries or attempted to meet her, but from the  
snatches of conversations over the years I've learned some things.  
  
One. She couldn't hack her way out of a paper bag. They've made fun of  
her lack of computer savvy on occasion. I suspect, like me she is  
dependent on her computer for work. Proficient enough to educate the  
computer illiterate and impress coworkers but outside of those situations.  
Clueless. Langly once recounted to me the time she came in holding her  
laptop out to them and asked "Please, Sir, May I have some more....memory."  
  
Two. She is the boss. THE LONE GUNMAN wasn't  
her idea but the responsibility of getting it out in the mail each  
month had somehow fallen on her shoulders. She often has to pound  
their story submissions into readable text. From minor correction of  
spelling to the extreme of completely rewriting their articles.  
  
Three. She rarely enters the Gunman's lair. Not that I blame her  
I wouldn't go in there myself if I wasn't dragged. The place has  
the funky smell of an adolescent boy's bedroom. Dust, mildew, rotting  
food and testosterone. She interacts with them through email and phone.  
Playing Charlie to the Gunman's Angels. (Lord! What a disturbing image that  
is. I hope to God I didn't come up with that myself and I'm just parroting  
something Mulder said once.) She usually only sees them face to face in  
social situations, even invites them into her home. Brave Girl.  
  
Four. She and Mulder are very close. Though Mulder almost never  
speaks of her, whenever the gunman mention her name Mulder's usually  
follows it. Mulder and Anne this. Anne and Mulder that. When Anne  
gave Mulder the thing...And then Mulder said to Anne. You see a  
pattern?  
  
When I reached them, Anne looked over at me and stepped out of Mulder's arms.  
Mulder turned toward me and smiled slightly as he performed the introductions.  
  
"Dana Scully, Anne Wingard."  
  
Reaching out my hand I say, "I feel like I already know you."  
  
"Ditto," She responded as she grasped my hand firmly, "If I were paranoid,  
I would think they were intentionally keeping us apart." She then directed her  
gaze at Mulder who is giving her a skeptical look. "Yes, I am a shining beacon  
of mental health amongst you paranoiacs."  
  
Oh, I like her. I like her a lot. And It would so easy hate her too. She *would*  
be his type. Tall, brunette, Medium build, gallic features, expressive brown eyes.  
  
Mulder's voice interrupted my internal commentary. "As much as I hated dumping  
this on you. Were you able to find rooms for us?"  
  
"Nearest motels are about an hour or more in each direction and we've got an two  
hour drive ahead of us just to get to Rushing Creek," Anne answered.  
  
"I thought you said there's a Bed and Breakfast in town."  
  
"Yep, just across the street from my old grade school. Check a calendar, Mulder.  
It's Valentine's Weekend they were booked solid months ago. I checked."  
  
"So where are we staying?" Scully asked.  
  
"With me. I've got four bedrooms and a frig to empty before I head home. If it makes  
you feel any better I can charge you and create some real looking receipts for the  
expense report."  
  
Thank God. Mulder, Me and a B&B on Valentine's Day, as nice as that sounds.  
Its just too much to deal with right now. "We wouldn't want to be an imposition."  
I protested to cover my relief.  
  
"Don't worry. You won't be, Agent Scully. I think I'll go stir crazy if I spend one  
more night alone in that house."  
  
Ok that's the second time she got all sad looking in reference to being busy or alone.  
Mulder is keeping something from me again. As soon as we're alone he and I are  
going to have words.  
  
***  
ANNE POV  
  
Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully M.D., The Lucious D, the enigmatic one  
in the flesh. So.....I finally get to meet Scully. I never thought I'd get a direct introduction.  
I missed her the few times we were in the office on the same day and I had couple  
scenarios of running down to Mulder's to ask him to open a jar or something when  
I though she might be there. But that never panned out.  
  
Wow, she's small. I mean they told me she was short but that doesn't prepare you for how  
truly tiny she is. Wow.  
  
They only had their carry-ons so we didn't have to deal with baggage claim, so I lead them  
directly to the car. I wouldn't let them rent anything especially since the damn rental counter  
isn't even inside the airport.. I guess we heartlanders haven't figured out convenience yet.  
They'll be using Mom's Altima while they're here.  
  
Mulder, I notice, is in high form today. Condolence hugs, no smart ass comments and  
he let Agent Scully have the front seat. I would have made sit in the back anyway but he  
offered first. Poor Scully had to walk through all that new fallen snow in those heels.  
Her tootsies must be like ice.  
  
As we pulled on to Interstate 80 I asked. "I hope you two don't need to check in at  
the field office because I'd rather we avoided the city all together and just go  
straight to Rushing Creek.."  
  
"They gave me directions how to get there but we can just call in." Mulder offered.  
  
"This I gotta see. Give me the directions." I chuckled.  
  
"Why?" Mulder asked as he hands a slip of paper over the seat to me. I glance  
at it as we move at a snail pace down the  
road.  
  
"The Omaha office is in weird place. Its squeezed in between a Holiday Inn and the  
IRS office on the edge of a residential area. You can see the back of the building from  
Dodge street but it takes a lot of strange twist and turns to get there....yup these directions  
would have lead you to First Data. close but no cigar." I explained before handing back  
his directions.  
  
"If its so out of the way, how do you know were it is?" Scully asked.  
  
"Just happened upon it one day."  
  
"What. You were just driving around?" asks Mulder.  
  
"Its called cruising, Mulder. It what you do in high school. As stupid as it was, we would  
drive 2 and half hours to get to Omaha and what would we do....cruise. We could have  
done that at home."  
  
He chuckled. "We used to take the ferry to Boston and do the same damn thing."  
  
Scully smiled slightly so I asked her, "Did you do anything similar, Agent Scully?"  
  
"I never saw the point of cruising."  
  
"Neither did I ," I agreed. "But with peer pressure and the lack of anything else to do. I  
always ended up doing it anyway."  
  
"So, Anne, Have you heard much about this case?" Mulder asked as he thumbed  
through the file he had grabbed from the side pocket of his suitcase before stashing it in the trunk.  
  
I really hadn't until he called last night. Imagine 3 people dying violently in a town with a  
population just under 1500 in the last two weeks. Now I know how truly out of the loop  
I was. I guess the locals consider me a defector for moving to D.C 13 years ago.  
  
"No, but I can take you to the quarries where you mentioned it happened. Its right at the  
turn-off into town."  
  
"That's good. We need to find out how soon we can get into the mines to check out the crimes scenes."  
  
"What kind of quarries?" Scully asked.  
  
"Limestone." Mulder answered.  
  
"Like for the monuments?" She suggested, but Mulder didn't have the answer for that one  
and looked to me.  
  
"No, this is fertilizer grade limestone. Monument grade comes from Indiana I think."  
  
During the drive, they discussed the case they had traveled all this way to investigate.  
As we headed West the snow lightened and it was much easier to drive ,as I had told  
them it was a two hour drive to my home town, Rushing Creek.  
  
Uck. Their talking about autopsies now. Don't listen, Anne, think of something else, like  
how you are going to fit your mother's antiques in your overstuffed apartment.  
  
"Anne?" Mulder called from the back seat.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I found a website Rushing Creek. It talked about a the town being founded on the  
battlefield of a tribal--"  
  
"Never happened."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah, Some tourist who was an amateur poet composed 'The Ballad of Rushing Creek'  
back in the 20's. The Indian war was pure invention but most people don't know that and  
think its history."  
  
" There goes your vengeful spirit theory," Scully murmured. She seemed to enjoy watching  
someone else taking the wind out of his sails with a little statement of fact but I'm sure Mama  
bear would have defended her cub if someone had called him crazy. I've heard stories of her  
protectiveness.  
  
They bantered back and forth throughout the drive which was slow going because of  
the weather. I'm glad they were entertaining themselves since the scenery isn't much to  
look at. I love listening to them talk. It reminds me of college when we used to play at  
being pseudo intellectuals except there is nothing pseudo about those two.  
  
"What about transients?" I threw out.  
  
"What about them?" Mulder asked.  
  
"Well, the mines maintain a constant temperature year-round even though outside we  
experience a range of 120 degrees summers and 20 below winters. I've always thought  
it would be an ideal place to go if you were homeless. You wouldn't have to worry about  
exposure or sunstroke and you could hide in the miles of tunnels and never see a soul of days."  
  
"Excellent suggestion, Anne. We'll ask the plant manager about that. Won't we, Mulder. Mulder?"  
  
He wasn't listening. He was likely dreaming up creatures that need to live in temperate  
conditions that are cut off from its food source by the recent cold snap. I dug a dollar  
out of my pocket and laid it on the dashboard with a slap that tore Agent Scully away  
from waving a hand in front of Mulder's face ineffectually.  
  
"Mythical creature, normal animal out of its environment, or mutant no ones ever heard of?" I offered.  
  
Scully looked at me to the dollar to me again, then with a slight twitch of her lips she  
reached for her purse and pulled out her own dollar and laid it on mine.  
"Mutant thing no ones ever seen before." she said succinctly with confidence radiating from her eyes.  
  
"I'll take mythical creature. Let's face it, with Mulder its never anything normal."  
  
"So true," She agreed while we sat back to wait for Mulder to grace us with his new theory.  
  
***  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
